


Kicking the Hornet's Nest

by KitsunesKnight



Series: The Awoken Wanderers - FFXIV Stories [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Combat, Death, F/M, Gen, Magic, Swords, arcanist, gladiator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29003019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitsunesKnight/pseuds/KitsunesKnight
Summary: A young, destined gladiator receives his first real test in combat.
Series: The Awoken Wanderers - FFXIV Stories [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/781317
Kudos: 2





	Kicking the Hornet's Nest

It started as any other day since Logan had joined the Gladiator’s Guild, in an attempt to follow that strange dream. His swordplay had improved, which was good, since it was obvious he was not a born warrior. If anything though, the diligence learned from his time back home on the ship was serving him well here. Today however, was different. As soon as he walked through the doors, he caught the eye of Mylla the Guildmaster herself.

“Holden! Come over here!” She called out.

He walked up to her, still slightly intimidated by the tall woman. “Er, yes ma’am?” He responded, unsure of what was about to come.

They had not spoken directly since his first day there, he assumed she was much too busy with other guild business to worry about the new recruits. Logan had, however, caught her looking over the sparring sessions more than once, and had been given the odd compliment or two in passing. That she called him out now made him curious.

“I’ve seen you and your sword have become better acquainted as of late. I can see the improvement in your stance and swings during sparring sessions. Given time you might just see this dream of yours fulfilled,” she started, filling Logan with a sense of pride. “As such I feel it’s time to instruct you on another fundamental aspect of what it means to be a gladiator: commanding an opponent’s attention. As gladiators, we are trained to engage enemies at close range, weathering their attacks as we deliver our own.  
“We do this by eliciting the enmity of our opponents through attacks and techniques designed to incite their hatred. You must learn to draw the enemy’s attention to yourself and to trust in your stout constitution to endure.”

At this Logan reflexively raised an eyebrow. He didn’t consider himself overly stout, by any means, but Mylla seemed prepared for this response.

“Yes, of course you may be lacking in this regard for now, but with continued training you’ll get there. Regardless, the lesson will hold true well enough; you’ll need to learn to protect your weaker comrades who would otherwise perish. To get to the point, there is a task I would have you perform. It just so happens that Momodi of the Quicksand has requested our assistance - a gang of Lominsan marauders has paraded into town and begun harassing people outside her establishment.”

At this Logan fully blanched. He knew full well the reputation of Lominsan marauders. Many times had they passed through Moraby, or been seen arguing or fighting with Yellowjackets around Limsa Lominsa during their trips. They were often the largest, and scariest, men Logan had ever laid eyes upon.

Mylla frowned. “Look Holden, men like these prey on the weak, but will turn tail and flee at the first sign of violence. It will suffice to show them that you are not afraid of them, and will not tolerate their behaviour. I like to think I’ve taken some stock of you thus far, and I believe you would disagree with their threats and harassment, yes? If you’ve any chance of growth in this business, you’ll need to learn this lesson eventually.”

With a hard swallow and a dry mouth Logan managed a response. “Yes, ma’am, of course.”

“Hmm,” Mylla seemed unconvinced. “Trust me when I say I believe you can do this. Simply seek out the Lominsans, and make your presence known by bellowing ‘face me marauder!’, or some such boistering. But you’ll need to put every ounce of courage into it, if you falter, they’ll see it. Let this not worry you further, but give you confidence that a proper act will succeed. Not to mention by doing this, you will be protecting the people of Ul’dah, and learn a valuable lesson towards protecting your allies in a true battle.”

That was something worth thinking about, Logan thought, as he nodded and turned to leave. As he walked out the doors, he began to think about what he was walking into. Protecting the people of Ul’dah… Was he really capable of such a feat? He was still trying to make sense of this whole adventurer business. Certainly he saw protecting the people as an honourable act, and would love to help if he could. But was this what he was meant to be doing? The nagging feeling at the edge of his mind returned, urging him forward. This felt maddening, it seemed borderline insane, to simply leave home, travel to a city-state he’d never set foot in, and sign up to become an adventurer? A gladiator? To now be instructed in the ways of intimidation, against Lominsan marauders no less?

By the time Logan reached the Quicksand his mind was a whirl of emotion and confusion. Questioning every one of his recent actions, he nearly turned on the spot and ran back to his room where he would wait until Cherise returned and tell her he was giving up this crazy plan and going back home.

“P-Please, I-I haven’t, it’s the same as anyone-”

The voice came from a corner near the gateway into this section of Ul’dah, terrified, concerned. Logan turned to look and saw a man, a merchant by his guess, cowering in a corner. He was overshadowed by a roegadyn in Lominsan garb, a large axe on the man’s back, though notably not in his hands. Mylla’s words rang out in his head once more. “Protect the people of Ul’dah.” He glanced around and spotted a few more of these marauders, and notably the fact that no one else seemed to be paying any mind to the plight of these people

A spark ignited in Logan’s chest at that moment, as he realized what this lesson was about. Not just protecting people, but being there, when no one else would or could. No one else was here, just him, and was he going to simply leave them to this fate?

“Oi! Marauder! How about facing me?” Logan called out, stoking the spark in his chest to a flame, and taking a wide stance, resting his hand near the hilt of the sword on his hip.

This caught the attention of merchant and marauder both, and they turned to look at the young hyuran.

“Ye know yer friend ‘ere’s a Twelve-damned cheat? Think ‘e can charge us more ‘cause we’re foreigners!” The marauder boasted, but Logan caught him glancing between the merchant and the gladiator. “Ah, but ‘e’ll get ‘is own back, mark me words!”

And just like that the marauder backed down, and walked away from the scene. Logan let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and took a moment to compose himself.

“T-Thank you! By the Twelve, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come by,” the merchant professed as he approached.

Logan shifted his weight from leg to leg nervously. “Oh, er, it wasn’t anything special. But I’d er, clear out in case he comes back. And, not that I’m accusing you, but do make sure your prices are fair.”

“O-Of course! Yes! Oh, thank you again, thank you!” The merchant continued before scrambling out of sight.

With that taken care of, Logan looked on to the other marauders, who seemed to have noticed the commotion in the main street. Instead of escalating the situation further, it seemed that they began to lose interest in their respective targets. That flame in his chest flickered back down to a spark, but a confidence overcame him as he considered what he’d done. He walked up the steps to the entranceway of the Quicksand to check if there were any further disturbances inside. There was in fact one more marauder still present, oblivious to events outside, no doubt. He looked even bigger and nastier than the previous marauders. He stood harassing a table of patrons, his dark sea green skin contrasting to the bright light pink hair, which was mostly covered by a dark yellow scarf wrapped around his head.

The Sea Wolf eyed Logan as he strode into the main seating area of the Quicksand, and didn’t so much as flinch as the hyur called out. “How about you face me instead, marauder?”

The man laughed. “Just who the ‘ells do ye think yer speakin’ to, maggot!? I’m Pfarmurl the Driven, an’ me an’ me Bloody Marauders’ve been reavin’ so long, mothers scare their children with tales about us!”

This did, in fact, ring a bell to Logan, who had, in fact, been told stories of the Bloody Marauders from his mother. While they did have a fearsome reputation, it was by far one as scary as Pfarmurl was making it out to be. The Bloody Marauders were small time, mostly known for harassing merchants and trade routes, and only occasionally anything as big as murder. They were, in point of fact, mostly known for being loud blowhards, that his mother had dealt with personally in the past.

When Logan’s stance unwavered, his eyes narrowing, Pfarmurl growled. “Don’t believe me words? Then I’ll let me axe do the talkin’!”

The roegadyn drew his weapon, and Logan now realized he did mean to use it. Apparently he was taking this personally, and Logan was concerned this was about to escalate to a level he was not prepared for. Before he could even think about drawing his own weapon however, a voice called out from behind him, halting both men in their place.

“Oho! This is lively, even for the Quicksand! You two going to put on a show for us?” The voice came from a highlander man sitting at a table behind Logan, who was now taking an active interest in the activity.

The man wore a deep red shirt and baggy pants, had wooden slats on his feet, and had wild dark hair, the only semblance of order being the well-trimmed facial hair across his chin. All of it worked to almost distract from the two large scars on his face, one under his left eye, the other starting from above his left brow, crossing his nose, and ending under his right eye.

“What’s this?” Pfarmurl grumbled. “Another godsdamned fool? Show some respect when ye talk to-”

“Pfarmurl the Driven,” the man interrupted, his voice calm and even, as he stood from his seat. “Leader of a group of bloody mummers or some such. Aye, I heard you the first time - your voice carries quite well.”

Pfarmurl however was practically foaming at the mouth. “Then unless ye want me to split yer skull with me axe, ye better-”

The roegadyn’s boasting suddenly came to a stop. Logan traced his eyes to the sword on the red robed man’s hip. A jagged red sword hung sheathed neatly against his side, and Pfarmurl seemed to recognize it.

“Th-That sword!” He sputtered, all aggression in his voice suddenly quelled. “It couldn’t be… _Frenzy!?_ But only the Sword of Nald would - Bloody hells, it’s _you!_ ”

The man shrugged, then smirked. “You know, I’ve never been one to stand back and watch. Mind if I join the fun?”

“B-B-Beggin’ yer pardon sir!” Pfarmurl bowed quickly, his hands on his knees, then turned on the spot and ran straight out of the Quicksand with a speed that left Logan standing dumbstruck in the middle of the room.

“Why do they always do that?” The man asked with a sigh, as he came to stand next to Logan, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Looks like it’s just you and me. Standing up to that Lominsan was quite brave of you.”

Logan felt that spark in his chest flare again.

“And quite foolish.”

The spark went out.

“But I think I like you, gladiator. Name’s Aldis, and I’d buy you a drink, but I’m afraid I just spent the last of my coin.” The man moved his hand from Logan’s shoulder to open palmed in between the two of them. 

Logan took it, and shook it. “Logan, a new recruit at the Gladiator’s guild.”

“Logan… I’ll have to remember that. You know I used to be a young gladiator like you. Back then, I… Ah, but that hardly concerns you. These days I’m just an explorer of the unexplored, a seeker of as-yet-unknown experiences…”

“Like, an adventurer?” Logan asked, unsure of where the man was going with this.

Aldis laughed. “Oh I suppose, though you won’t see me on any guild registrar. No, merely a wanderer of my own design. I’ve not been to Ul’dah in some time… Gods I’ve missed this city, this wonderful desert jewel of debauchery and sin.”

The man stared wistfully about the room, and Logan found himself unsure of how to respond, when Aldis suddenly seemed to come to, and gave Logan another solid pat on the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

With naught another word, Aldis walked out of the Quicksand, leaving Logan once more standing in place, watching him go. When he finally turned away and shook his head to try and clear his thoughts, he spotted Momodi waving him over.

“Gosh Logan, wouldn’t have expected you to be in here threatening marauders like that! You really must’ve learned a thing or two by now!” She exclaimed.

“Err, yeah I suppose so,” Logan half shrugged, flushing slightly. “Part of my training and all, apparently. Not sure I did so much of a good job on this one though.”

Momodi waved his concern away. “I heard at least one person come through thankful for someone clearing the ones out front away. I assume that was you. You’ve done a fine job, lad. But you certainly didn’t seem to recognize the man who came to your rescue just now. Hells, I wouldn’t have believed it was Aldis myself if I hadn’t seen him with my own two eyes.”

“What do you mean?” Logan asked.

“Well I mean everyone here thought he died years ago!” Momodi exclaimed.

“Died?”

“Just that! I might tell you about it later if you don’t hear yourself, but listen, don’t tell Mylla about meetin’ Aldis, alright? She doesn’t need this sort of drama.”

“I mean… Sure, but, why?”

Momodi sighed. “Why? Hmm… let’s just say some folk ain’t good for one another. Trust me. Not my business to say much more. Now, off with you, the marauders ain’t an issue anymore and I’d best bet you have a report to deliver.”

“Right, guess I do. Thanks, Momodi.”

With a wave from the lalafellin woman, Logan departed the Quicksand, taking a cautious look around to make sure that Pfarmurl and his Bloody Marauders had in fact absconded. When he was sure it was safe he made a beeline back to the Gladiator’s Guild, where Mylla was waiting.

“Logan! I’ve already heard about your exploits at the Quicksand! Excellent work, you did well to send those marauders packing. You’ve done us proud, though I wish I could say we’ve heard the last of them.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Logan’s face twisted into a look of concern.

“No it doesn’t. Alas, we’ve received reports of axe-wielding raiders assaulting merchants traveling through Scorpion Crossing. It seems words will not suffice, after all. I want you to finish what you’ve begun, Logan. Head to Western Thanalan and see that Pfarmurl the Driven and all those who have shared in his crimes never trouble the people of Ul’dah again.”

It was at this moment Logan realized where the intimidation towards this woman came from. Mylla was so sure of herself, always thinking about her decisions and choosing whatever seemed right at the time. Such confidence created an aura of intimidation to those who felt unsure of their own actions. He thought to ask if she was sure he could manage this task, but realized she already did. She was not assigning this task recklessly, and the confidence he saw she had for him bolstered his own.

He would not fail Mylla or the Gladiator’s Guild. She’d been watching him train and practice, and knew what he was capable of. At this moment, it meant he was capable of stopping these brutish marauders in their tracks.

“Yes ma’am,” Logan said, standing a little straighter and giving her a determined nod.

He caught a smile at the edge of her lips as she responded. “Good. I’ll see you back here shortly then.”

The spark in Logan’s chest was a flaming inferno now, and his mind whirled with the drills he’d been practicing. He walked out towards Western Thanalan as if on auto pilot, going over the basic blocks, parries, and common openings he’d been spotting in his sparring sessions. By the time he reached Scorpion Crossing, he was trying to think of how to reapply what he knew to a marauder’s fighting style. It wouldn’t be the same as a swift sword, no a marauder’s axe moved much more slowly. It took momentum to swing around, and he was sure he could take advantage of that. But first he’d have to find them. There was no evidence of the boisterous roegadyn in the outpost, they’d be easy to spot among the merchants. Across the way however, was a ragged man leaning against the gate. Uninjured, for the most part, it seemed, but definitely frightened and nervous.

“Excuse me, sir?” Logan asked, approaching with caution.

“What?” The man’s head shot up and Logan thought he might’ve fallen over if not for the bracing of the wooden gate. “What do you want?”

“Sorry sir, I er, saw your condition, and had to ask, what happened?”

The man shook his head. “It all happened so fast. They… They tore me from my saddle and robbed me. My bird panicked, and I ran. Those goods are all I own…”

Logan nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ve been looking to track those very bandits down. Stay here, I’ll be back shortly.”

“Those goods are all I own, adventurer!” The man pleaded. “Bring them back to me, I beg of you!”

After more assurances to the merchant, Logan drew his sword and shield and walked out the east gates of the small trading post. It didn’t take long for obvious signs of struggle to become apparent. Logan even thought he heard the panicked chocobo nearby, its cries distant, but trackable. But first thing’s first, a sack seemed to have been left behind on the ground, and Logan picked it up to investigate.

He never got the chance to see what was inside however, as the rattle of chain and heavy footfalls forced him to drop the sack and instinctively raise his shield. It was just in time to catch a heavy swing of a marauder’s axe, though Logan did not have time to properly brace himself. The young gladiator stumbled back a few steps, but quickly positioned into a proper defensive stance, so when the next swing came, he was able to partially deflect it. Now, the two of them were on even footing, and Logan got a good look at his attacker. It was the very same roegadyn that he had intimidated outside the Quicksand, and he looked angry.

“So, the wee lad decided to try an’ put some action behind them words o’ his, eh?” The marauder taunted. “Guess we’ll see what you’re really made of!”

Logan readied himself, but suddenly heard more sound from behind him. With a glance, he caught sight of another marauder, his axe already mid-swing, and Logan all but fell to his knees to scramble out of the way in time. By the time he stood up straight, two more had joined them, four marauders to one gladiator. Each of them had been outside the Quicksand, each of them had left, and each of them belonged to the Bloody Marauders. That meant only one thing.

“Yer story ends here, lad. Ye won’t be gettin’ away this time, no fancy ghost o’ the past here to save you,” the voice of Pfarmurl called out, as he stepped through his men to the front of the pack. “I’d say ye should turn tail an’ run, but we won’t be lettin’ ya do that.”

Logan’s face went white as he realized the marauders were now positioned between him and Scorpion Crossing. There was no way he could outrun them to either Horizon to the North, or the Silver Bazaar to the East. He was cut off, and he might’ve been able to take them one at a time, but five at once? That inferno in his chest cut off. The spark was gone. The confidence he had seen in Mylla’s face turned to disappointment, and his heart sank into his stomach. This was it, his stupid decision to leave home was going to end just like he feared it would. Cherise would be stuck here, alone. No, she’d find a way back, she was resourceful like that. Seven hells, he was probably weighing her down. She had walked into Ul’dah like she owned the place, and had been the one to find where he needed to go.

All this and more swirled in Logan’s head as he watched the marauders run at him, almost as if in slow motion. His grip on his sword and shield tightened, as even if his time had come to an end, if he could fell even one of these bandits, maybe another merchant may not suffer the same fate.

But just as Logan went to defend against the first attack, there was a flash of light, magic of some sort, and the leading marauder stumbled back, knocking into his companion, and halting the charge. Logan’s head spun in the direction of the blast and nearly dropped his weapons in surprise. Standing there, book open, carbuncle at her side, purple hair flapping in the aetheric winds kicked up by the charge of another spell, was Aiko, the Miqo’te from the other day.

Another spell lashed out, but this time the marauder was read for it, and raised his axe in the way, the energies dispelling out, causing only a glancing blow. They had forgotten all about Logan, and he saw all five of them turn towards the arcanist.

“Well?” Aiko called out, already readying another spell. “Don’t just stand there, let’s take them out!”

This snapped Logan back to his senses. He had help, he wasn’t alone! She certainly had the confidence for the both of them, and that meant Logan had to do exactly what he’d just been taught. Distract, attract, defend.

“Oi, you lot must only be here since the Yellowjackets chased you out! Sorry sods couldn’t even make it as marauders in your home state?” Logan called out, rushing in and taking a swing at the nearest marauder.

His attack connected, and the marauder spun around. Just in time for Aiko’s spell to splash with full effect against his back, followed by a blast of wind from the small glowing familiar at her side. The man roared, and raised his axe for another strike, but Logan was ready now, and his sword flashed as it smashed through his opponent’s chain armour and sunk into flesh. When he looked up he saw only murderous intent in the eyes of the marauder, and it nearly sent him back on his heels.

Logan had never killed another Spoken before, his training had led him only against monsters, beastkin and the like. He’d faced human opponents, but only during sparring matches. It occurred to him now, that he had not truly considered the fact he’d have to kill someone else until just now. But seeing the look in this roegadyn’s eyes, knowing the fact that the only way this man would walk away from this is if he lodged his axe deep into Logan’s own flesh. That was all the young gladiator needed to make a decision.

With a shout, Logan pulled his sword free of the marauder’s chest, spun under and around his next swing, and this time plunged his sword deep into his opponent’s back. The marauder screamed, but Logan merely kicked off his back to pull himself free and now stand between Aiko and the rest of the Bloody Marauders. The already wounded foe found another spell as he turned, this time the magic impacting directly in his face. He dropped to the ground and lay still.

The rest of the marauders charged, and Logan stood his ground. With a twist, he flung himself around in a circle, his sword arm outstretched. The technique he’d been taught for multiple targets, Total Eclipse, suddenly proving its worth. It was still strange to him, being able to pull from his own aether to produce attacks more than simply a slash of his sword. It wasn’t much by any means, certainly no spell slinging such as Aiko was performing behind him. In fact he saw one of the marauders slow to nearly a halt, his skin suddenly turning a deeper shade of green just at that moment. But it was proving effective at keeping the marauders at bay. Their armour took a few hits, and their resolve was starting to weaken. At least it was until Pfarmurl burst through their ranks and leapt at Logan, axe swinging overhead.

It was all Logan could manage to deflect the blow off his shield, but it still sent him tumbling backwards, his arm feeling numb. He groaned, finding it difficult to get back to his feet.

“I’ll chop ye into tiny lil’ pieces you Twelve-damned shite!” Pfarmurl screamed as he continued his charge.

Logan scrambled backwards, suddenly in a panic as he tried to find his footing. Just before Pfarmurl could reach him however, the emerald carbuncle leapt in front of him, slamming the marauder in the face with a blast of wind. It knocked him aside, his axe slamming into the rough dirt mere inches from Logan’s position.

“Get up!” Aiko shouted, before returning her attention to the other marauders, who seemed to be rethinking their position.

Taking the words to heart, Logan scrambled to his feet as Pfarmurl attempted to remove his axe from the ground. It was wedged in hard however, giving Logan the perfect opportunity. Pfarmurl saw it coming, his eyes going wide as he looked up to see Logan’s sword headed straight for his face.

“Bloody ‘ells.”

With a single stab, Pfarmurl the Driven was driven from the land of the living. Logan drew his blade back, allowing the man’s corpse to slam headfirst into the dirt next to his axe. He was breathing heavily, but knew he had little time to think on his actions, for in being distracted by Pfarmurl, Aiko was quickly getting surrounded by the remaining marauders. With a war cry that reignited the inferno in his chest, Logan dove back into the fray. His sword flashed in the high desert sun, accompanied by blasts of pure aether flung by Aiko’s spells. It was only a few moments more before the Bloody Marauders lay dead in the sand.

“Well, that was certainly interesting,” Aiko commented, placing her book back in its hip holster, before crouching down to go through the nearest dead man’s belongings. “Didn’t expect to see you out here picking fights like that.”

Logan was still catching his breath, and it took him a moment of taking in the carnage to finally sheathe his own weapons. “Yeah, uh… Gladiator training…” He managed eventually.

“Gladiator training has you picking fights with five men five times your size?” Aiko asked, her tone one of obvious teasing. “Seems like a good way to get killed.”

“Yeah, well,” Logan remembered what he was here for and began looking for the merchant’s goods. “It wasn’t supposed to be all five of them, really. One or two. Maybe.”

“You sound so sure of yourself,” Aiko pocketed a small bag from a couple of the dead men, before walking over to Logan. “What’cha lookin’ for?”

“Uh, the merchant’s goods,” Logan answered, checking over a nearby stone wall where he guessed some of the marauders had been hiding. “Aha!”

Nestled next to the wall on the far side was a crate that looked like it would fit snugly on the back of a chocobo, as well as three bags. Adding the fourth he had found left on the side of the road, he could assume this would be the merchant’s belongings. He reached over and picked them up, turning to find Aiko mere inches from his face.

“That it?” She asked, her golden eyes shining as they stared into his own.

Logan nearly dropped the crate as he attempted to deal with his personal space being invaded. “Wh, ah, uh, y-yes! Yup, this is it! And that bag over there.”

As he jerked his head towards where he’d dropped the bag, Aiko turned to look, and Logan managed to swing out back to a comfortable distance.

“Would you mind-”

“Yeah I got it!”

Aiko all but skipped over to the bag, snatched it up, and walked alongside Logan as he carried both the crate and the other three bags. It became evident that she was purposely not offering to help about halfway back to Scorpion Crossing, as Logan struggled to keep the cargo in a comfortable position.

“Gosh, that looks heavy,” Aiko commented, a smile on her lips.

“Mhm!” Was all Logan could manage, his eyes pleading for assistance.

It never came, and by the time the pair reached the gate leading back into the outpost, Logan all but dropped the crate at the merchant’s feet.

“Twelve bless you, adventurer!” He exclaimed, wasting no time opening the crate and inspecting his goods, while Logan straightened and stretched with a groan. “Oh if it weren’t for good men-” he looked over at Aiko who dropped the fourth bag next to the rest. “-and women like you, I’d never leave home!”

“Just ah,” Logan cracked something in his back that felt good and he finally managed to relax his posture. “Glad we could help, sir. Those marauders shouldn’t be giving anyone any further trouble.”

“Good! Good, thank you, again! The traders of Thanalan owe you a debt of gratitude! Oh, but I really must be going, good day, and thank you, thank you!”

The merchant gathered up his goods and hurried off, apparently stronger than he seemed, and Logan sighed and shook his head.

“Not even a reward? I have half a mind to rob him again!” Aiko sneered after the man.

“Do not,” Logan said sternly. “But, that’s fair, you saved my life, the least I can do is split the payment from the Guild.”

Aiko’s golden eyes seemed to flash. “Oh really?” Her tail flicked back and forth and her ears seemed to stand up at attention.

“Yeah. I have to report back, want to come?” He offered.

Aiko’s ears flattened and her tail drooped. “Oh go right now? No, that sounds dull. I’ll collect next time I run into you.”

“Er… Next time?”

“Of course!” Once again Aiko had slipped into Logan’s personal space, wrapping herself around one of his arms and he could’ve sworn he heard a slight purr. “You didn’t think it was really a coincidence that had me saving your life today, do you?”

Logan swallowed as his mouth went dry, as Aiko’s finger slid across his breastplate. “Uh, er, I-I mean…”

Aiko giggled and hopped away from the flustered boy. “By the Gods you are fun! And not bad in a fight either now, oh yes, I’ll definitely be seeing more of you. Good luck!”

Before Logan could utter another word, the Miqo’te and her carbuncle headed off down the road towards Horizon. He sighed and shook his head. What characters he had come to meet since leaving home.

***

“Well done Holden!” Mylla exclaimed as Logan finished his report. “It is finished then, and a damn fine job if I do say so myself. With that, this stage of your training is complete. This time, your enemies were ill-behaved ruffians, but who knows what manner of opponents you will face in the future?”

Logan’s head was still spinning at the fact he’d just had to kill to save his own life, and his inferno had once more died down. He simply nodded, praying to the Twelve things wouldn’t get much worse than today.

“Regardless, I have faith that you will do well. Master your sword and you shall master yourself. For now, get some rest, there will be more work for you in the days to come.”

Logan thought that sounded like a good idea, and trudged off back to the apartment, hoping Cherise would be back soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Some day I'll put all these short stories together into something resembling chapters in something resembling a proper timeline, but for now, I wanted to adapt the Level 5 Gladiator class quest of the same name into a story that made sense for my character. It does reference other events that don't occur here, but do happen in my "mental timeline", which is what I mean to do on that "some day".


End file.
